


Battle of the Sexes

by SegaBarrett



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, F/M, Orgasm Control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-08
Updated: 2013-08-08
Packaged: 2017-12-22 18:35:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/916627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SegaBarrett/pseuds/SegaBarrett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Walt and Lydia make a bet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Battle of the Sexes

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Breaking Bad, and I make no money from this. 
> 
> A/N: Written for kink_bingo, "orgasm denial/control".

“Passenger Zimmerman, please meet your party at Gate C28.”

“They’ve called this guy three times by now,” Walt grumbled aloud. “Why the hell is Lydia’s flight taking so long?”

He leaned back and tried to get comfortable in his seat at Arrivals. This was her fourth trip to the Czech Republic to personally ensure that everything was going as planned with deliveries, though Walt was sure she got her fair share of sight-seeing in as well, along with other events that likely made the trip more pleasure than business. But Walt couldn’t exactly fault her that, now could he? Especially as she tended to bring back some interesting things that seemed as if they’d come out of Amsterdam instead of Prague. 

Finally, it flashed on the screen, her flight name and Denver, the last layover she had had to do.

Walt didn’t know quite what he thought of Lydia half the time. He didn’t love her, not the way that he’d loved Skyler, but something in him wanted her. Something in him called for her; her darkness had a way of mirroring his own. They weren’t a ying-yang, they were two pieces woven together in a way that was uneven but somehow worked just perfectly.

It felt like hours before she appeared in the line of people exiting the flight. She was dressed in her big glasses and a dressy pantsuit, and she ignored Walt at first and opted to go to the baggage claim and grab one single bag. Black, but marked by a tied off pink ribbon. Easy to identify. Impossible to get mixed up, she’d said. She’d hate to have to fight some idiot in a Hawaiian shirt to get her cargo back.  
When she finally did see fit to acknowledge Walt, she walked towards him slowly, casually. Like she didn’t actually know him but more-so simply recognized him from some place or another, some place she had almost forgotten about.

When Lydia was a few steps away from Walt, she reached out with her hand and subtly touched his cheek.

“I have an idea.” He didn’t even know exactly when she had moved her lips to his ears, but they were there, and Walt was nearly embarrassed by how hard he got at just those words. Lydia’s ideas were always… interesting. Often dangerous. But never mundane. 

“Let’s get home then.” Walt matched her voice in quietness and intensity.

“Your place or mine?” Lydia responded.

“That depends. Where can we be… private… enough?” Walt inquired. Since this bizarre situation had started, he had yet to meet Lydia’s daughter. The kid’s name was… Kendra? Kyra? Something like that. He couldn’t be bothered to learn it, to feign interest as he would have to do if this was about something other than what it was. It was about power. It was about being two people who knew they had power. 

It was lonely at the top, perhaps, but you had a breathtaking view.

“I’ve got a place in the neighborhood,” Lydia responded. “Out of the way. You brought your car?”

“Yes I did,” Walt replied. He was glad that it was the new one, the nice new flashy one and not that piece-of-shit Aztek. He was surprised to find that he wanted to impress Lydia. It wouldn’t be the last time he planned to impress her tonight.

***

“I haven’t seen you in a week,” Walt began, leaning forward with a long pause. He was sitting on a chair in Lydia’s hole-in-the-wall condo on the outskirts of Albuquerque. “And you propose that we have some kind of Seinfeld-style contest? Have I inquired recently about what the hell is wrong with you?”

“There’s probably a lot wrong with me,” Lydia said quickly, her eyes burning with offense, “But I also know how to do this, like a lot of other things, properly.” She spoke even more breathlessly than usual. “A contest. Whoever cums first loses. And I know…” She reached out and touched her hand to Walt’s chin, tipping it upwards and looking into his eyes. “That you don’t like to lose. In fact, you hate to lose.” She slid her hand down his side, groping his cock through his khakis. “Heisenberg.”

Walt let out a low grunt. She knew that that was the way to get him going. To remind him that he was Heisenberg, that he was powerful that he was… maybe he was a little more willing to play now, now that the scene in his head was more jaguars than kittens. 

“I don’t plan on losing, Lydia,” he hissed. “What’s this… purchase you made that’s going to help us?”  
Lydia smirked and rose from her own seat, heading over to her duffel bag and zipping it open. In her outstretched hands, she had two mechanical contraptions. The first was a mental ring which appeared to be made to attach to something – Walt had three guesses what – and the second was a standard vibrator but with a strap to attach it to a person. 

“I see,” Walt commented. “So what are the rules for our little competition?”

“We can use whatever we can to make the other person… lose,” Lydia replied. Her breath was getting heavy, but Walt wasn’t sure whether it was from excitement or nervousness. “There are no rules. We can play as dirty as we like.”

Walt clicked his tongue in agreement.

“All right then,” Lydia declared. “Let’s get started.” Without any further ado, she picked up her devices and made her way into the adjoining room, which heralded a large bed that was covered in a dark blue and white duvet. Walt followed her, looking around the room and taking it in. He’d never been to Lydia’s home, her real home, though he knew that Mike had and that made him feel a strange twinge of jealousy that he didn’t know exactly what to do with. 

Lydia took a seat on the bed, knees against the bedspread with her back arched in the direction of the wall. He watched her a movement, strangely captivated. A mind as dark as his own. That was what he needed these days. Not Skyler’s nagging or Jesse’s pathetic moralizing.

But Lydia. He’d never get a speech on morals from her. Only encouragement in how to win, how to do better.   
Walt sat on the bed, too, kicking his shoes off and sitting cross-legged next to her. He leaned in, pinning her lips with his own and breathing into her, sharing his breath, his thoughts, his ambitions. She nipped at his lips and sucked on them, too. He smelled something metallic; maybe she’d drawn blood but by this point he was too hard to care.

He wanted to forget this game and simply pin her to the bed, fuck her hard and make her say his name over and over. But he would indulge her. He had a feeling that there’d be something in it for him.

“What do I get when I win?” he inquired while they broke to each take a breath.

“Anything you want.” She reached a hand back and fingered the hairband that was holding her bun in place, but didn’t pull it off to let her hair flow free. It was like she was reminding him that it was there so he could pull it later. She liked that. “Lay back,” she instructed. “We each take one turn. One move.”

“Like chess,” Walt commented.

“I never found chess to be quite this much fun,” Lydia replied, her eyes wide and excited, like she was talking about expanding the business to the Czech Republic all over again. “My move.” Before he could argue, she continued, “Ladies first.” She leaned up and pinned him against the headboard and took a brief look at the device. Instead she opted to unzip his pants and unbutton the fly, reaching inside and taking him roughly in hand. “Tell me,” Lydia began, and Walt glared at her when she just let those two words float in the air. She stroked him hard.

“My move?” Walt responded sarcastically, “Or would you like to finish your thought?”

“Tell me,” Lydia leaned in to let her tongue lap against Walt’s ear, “What it was like to kill Mike.”

Walt shivered. He still didn’t know quite how he felt about that. But Lydia knew. Lydia seemed to know the dark part of him, seemed to see it and seemed to be attracted to it. Not repelled like Skyler was, like Jesse was. 

“We were out in the middle of nowhere. Near… near a lake. There was a lake nearby. Could hear… birds singing. Dragonflies if you tried hard enough.” Walt couldn’t help but grind his hips. “We argued… he went to drive away. I had his gun I just… shot.”

“You were stronger.” Lydia moved to straddled him.

“Not fair,” Walt protested. “More than one move.” In one swift motion, he flipped her to lying on her back. “My move. Mine.”

Lydia let out a soft grunt of protest, but otherwise didn’t fight it. Walt let his gaze travel over her long legs that led into a perfect V formation. He’d have to get her clothes off too. Make them even. Far too many clothes.

He reached up and pinned her, leaning in to breath against her neck. 

“You like this, don’t you?” he growled at her. “It’s all game-playing with you. You don’t take anything seriously…” In the midst of his faux complaint, he tugged at the button and soon her own pants were off – it took a few tugs but he made short work of them, tossing them into the corner with a kind of frantic disgust for it all.

“Why should I?” Lydia fired back. “It’s all a game. Up until someone ends up dead. I take great pains to make sure that someone isn’t me. I have to stick around.” Walt slid his hand into her black panties and felt around, a little awkwardly. Lydia didn’t seem inclined to help him out with finding the right spot; instead, she stared at him with the same defiant gaze. 

“You’re very particular,” Walt continued. “You like things how you like them.”

“Don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” Walt admitted. As he said the words, his thumb found what it was searching for, the small nub that jutted out from her and seemed to be begging for a little attention. He stroked it, and Lydia’s eyes fluttered shut, though she didn’t respond verbally. “You like that, don’t you?”

But she refused to give him the satisfaction of a response.

Instead, she replied, “My turn.” 

Her hands moved fast, and they were soon back on Walt’s cock. This time, however, she neglected it in favor of cupping his balls and giving them a little, teasing, feathery thrust. He jerked his hips in want.

“Lydia.” The words were so low in Walt’s throat. He almost choked on them. He was close, too close already. Too hard to think straight. He hated that she could do this to him. Wasn’t he Heisenberg, always in control? He’d spent enough years having Skyler stamp all over him, he wasn’t all that eager to switch her out for Lydia doing the same. But Lydia was different, though. He didn’t have words for how different she was.  
Her eyes opened and she smiled seductively at him.

“Your turn.”

He raised a single finger to his lips and sucked on it, getting it as slick as he could. In a flash, he was down Lydia’s underwear yet again, groping for her slit. He found it and plunged his finger inside; at first he must have had the wrong angle or something because her gaze was less than impressed. But then he must have hit gold; her legs tightened around him slightly – but not completely. She was still in control. He’d have to change that. He never realized a silly little contest, a bet, could fire him up so much.  
Lydia extended her hand behind her and scooped up the forgotten device she had brought home from Prague.

“My turn,” she breathed out. “Put it on.”

“Should I be worried?” Walt fired back. He looked at it but didn’t touch the item just yet; with Lydia, one had to always be on their guard, even in a situation like this. She was Eve, holding out the apple. No, more than that. She was the serpent, poised and ready to strike. 

“I didn’t think Heisenberg could get worried,” she responded, batting her eyelashes, before saying quickly, “If I’m wasting my time I can just pack up and go.”

Walt growled, furiously. She knew how to press his buttons. All of them.

“Hit me with your best shot,” he hissed at last. He even jut out his hips a little to give her easier access. He wasn’t afraid, not even worried, he was just impatient. That was all it was. He was eager to get on with it so that he could win, and… well, they’d have to figure out a worthwhile prize. He was sure with both their heads put together, they’d be able to think of something.

Lydia fiddled with a knob on the device, widening the metal circle in the middle. 

“This should fit you,” she said with a knowing smirk. Walt was ready to shoot back that she was cutting things a little close and he was considerably larger than that, but before he could form the words she popped the device over his cock and locked it in place.

“What is this, exactly?” he asked instead, “It looks like some kind of…” His cock throbbed into it, and the feeling wasn’t totally unpleasant, nor completely pleasant either. It was a weird, almost foreboding kind of anticipation. He couldn’t get away from Lydia if he wanted to.

She turned a little crank on the side of the device, and Walt unwittingly let out a grunt as it squeezed his cock in a way that wasn’t totally unpleasant. He was beginning to see the point of Lydia little purchase.

“My turn,” he gasped out, but she wasn’t done just yet as she turned the crank another rotation and extracted yet another groan. This one was more decidedly of pleasure; Walt was starting to hit the shoreline between being able to keep control of himself and cumming hard against his will.

It was even harder to keep himself from cumming, from losing the bet and showing that Lydia of all people had power over him in some way, when she lay back and stretched her legs wide, giving him a view to end all views. His eyes opened hungrily. He wanted to own her, to control her in a way he’d never wanted to control anyone – well… maybe Gus, maybe Jesse but both of those had been different. So very different. 

He grappled for the other device that Lydia had purchased, before pausing – why didn’t he make his move to the basket a little harder to see through?

So instead, he stood and, with great care, made his way to Lydia’s closet and peeked inside, as she watched him curiously. He found what he was looking for with relative ease, as her closet as organized as obsessively as the rest of her life – a couple belts and a few ties, though he wondered briefly what the latter were doing there. Leftovers from one night stands? Stand-in gifts for older male relatives? Regardless, he scooped them all up and looked Lydia over with another hungry look.

“Hand up,” he instructed, “Against the headboard.” She gave him a defiant look, but complied, pressing her fingers against the metal and slipping the tips over the little design that was carved into it.  
In a flash, he wrapped the belt around her arm and effectively attached it to the headboard. Lydia shot him a look that mainly consisted of being bored, but no matter. His game of hangman hadn’t completed all of its moves yet. He would do best not to telegraph it, after all.

“That was your play?” she inquired. Walt gave a sage nod, and Lydia rolled her eyes and extended her free arm. Another stroke was on the agenda, though this time she needed a little more maneuvering to get her grip around Walt’s member. The look in her eyes was starting to indicate that she realized now how this could become a problem in regards to winning the bet, and she responded with a long, brutal stroke that sought to squeeze all the cum out of Walt at once.

He only barely held on by biting his own lip, hard, and thinking about the least sexy things possible, things like Tuco and his chemo and watching Hank’s video of Gale. 

Lydia let out a sound of extreme frustration as Walt rose up again. He let out a victorious laugh as he took the tie and attached Lydia’s other arm to the headboard as well. She looked up at him viciously.

“What the fuck?” she cried out. “Not fair!”

“What’s your move, Lydia?” Walt taunted, putting his hands at his side and moving back so his cock was just out of reach.

“It’s about to be kicking you in the balls,” she hissed. 

“Got anything?”

She made an awkward curve with her leg in response, but found it ineffective. So she gazed up at him, eyes wide and furious.

“As soon as I get free….” she declared, “I’m going to take this belt and whoop your ass so hard you can’t sit down for a week.”

“That’s your move? Nice image, Lydia,” Walt fired back. He looked down and picked up the second device Lydia had brought home from abroad, his lip curling into a smirk. It seemed perfectly made for the purpose, as if his opponent had envisioned her own defeat and was somehow drawn to it like a moth to a flame. 

He crouched down to straddle her. He wanted to make this last, and he would.

Walt strapped the vibrator to her thighs and, with the same precision he used in the lab, lined it up with her clit. She raised her head enough to try and bite him. Then he pressed the “high speed” button. 

And then he backed off of the bed. 

“I’m… going… to fucking kill you!” Lydia hissed at him as she began to quiver in unwanted pleasure. “I’m… going…”

“As soon as you get free,” Walt replied with a laugh. He reached down, removed the strange device from his hard cock, and tossed it aside. “But given the whole… multiple orgasms thing… that’ll be whenever the battery runs out.”

“You can’t just… leave me here!”

“Well, I won’t. Not right away. I need to take care of something.” He slid his hand downward to proudly cup his own cock. “Then maybe I’ll stick around. We’ll just have to see.” He turned to head towards the bathroom and then stopped. “Maybe I’ll just let you watch me.”

“I’m… going…”

Oh, he was quite sure Lydia was going to get him back, and get him back good. But he’d won the battle if not the war, and if this latest endeavor were any indication, maybe some small part was looking forward to it. After all, it took a hell of a woman to win over Heisenberg. But if anyone could do it… 

Walt sat back down in the abandoned chair, cupped himself, and stroked.

It was good to be on top.


End file.
